Sinric the Wanderer

"We had to take care of you in body", Athelstan reminds him gently. "But now here you are healed and strong again."

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"And we can put that idea we had into practice," Ragnar says, kissing Athelstan first, then Sinric again.

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"And may I ask what idea that is exactly?" Sinric purrs between kisses. "I feel I might like it like it very much."

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"Simply", Athelstan says, stroking his lovely golden skin, "that one of us pleasures you with his mouth, and the other with his body."

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"So you'll have the best from both of us," Ragnar says.

He runs his hands down Sinric's back and cups his buttocks.

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Sinric melts into Ragnar's arms, arching into his hands. He turns to pull Athelstan gently closer, kissing him slowly. "I'd like that, very much. More than anything."

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"Then it shall happen, and I look forward to hearing what you two have planned as well." The kiss is returned tenderly. "Come to bed."

Athelstan and Ragnar are still fully dressed, but that won't last long.

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"Let us sprawl all over each other," Ragnar says, smiling at them both.

He takes off his belt already, feeling extremely overdressed just now.

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Sinric tugs gently on Athelstan's belt, reaching to help Ragnar out of his tunic.

He steps back, unfolding the long silk wrap of his skirt. Beneath, he wears a breach cloth of the same silk, tied around his hips and between his thighs.

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Athelstan's belt comes untied easily and he shucks off his tunic, then steps forward to untie Sinric's breech cloth.

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Ragnar is glad to get out of his clothes, reaching out to stroke both Athelstan's chest and Sinric's buttocks before kicking off his shoes and starting to unlace his breeches.

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Free of the last length of cloth, Sinric drops to his knees to unlace Ragnar's breeches, kissing the hard mound of flesh before freeing him from them.

He turns, still on his knees to do the same for Athelstan.

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Athelstan keeps more or less still to let him do it, only his hands moving to stroke down through Sinric's hair to bare skin.

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Ragnar's prick springs out of is confines as Sinric does that, already eager for what is to follow.

Ragnar steps out of his trousers while watching Sinric do the same to Athelstan.

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Sinric cannot bring himself to turn away at once, stopping to nuzzle and kisses the soft, well muscled turn of Athelstan's thighs.

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There's all the time in the world. Athelstan's hands run over Sinric's shoulders, caressing.

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Ragnar just stands there, drinking in the view and not moving otherwise, apart from his prick, which is visibly filling out at that enticing sight.

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Sinric moans as he kisses his way up the length of Athelstan's shaft, lapping softly at his leaking slit.

He reaches for Ragnar without lifting his head, drawing him closer that he might bring their pricks together and kisses them both at once.

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Athelstan takes Ragnar's hand as well to draw him in, the last thing he wants being for Ragnar to be left out.

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Ragnar is very happy to come closer and nudge his prick right next to Athelstan's -- he stands with his legs spread so they're the same height for Sinric to reach.

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Sinric glances up at him to smile his thanks before taking them both in hand. His lips and tongue move from one to the other, his cheek and hand warm against the one his mouth is not on this their are never bereft of contact.

With a cheeky smile he aligns them and takes the heads of their pricks into his mouth at once.

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Athelstan's hand tightens on Ragnar's, feeling them rub together in the heat of Sinric's mouth.

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Ragnar groans with sudden pleasure, his hand tightening on Athelstan's.

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